Nuptials
by fuzzyfishbowl
Summary: When Ron and Hermione decide to get married, they have no idea what obsticales await them on their way to the alter. FINISHED
1. The Proposal

*AN: this story takes place four years after Ron, Harry, and Hermione graduate from Hogwarts. Voldemort has been defeated. Any other info will be given within the story. Enjoy!  
  
Summary: When Ron "pops the question" to Hermione, neither of them can imagine the challeges that face them on the way to the alter. And they're not the only ones having promblems...  
  
Part One:  
  
When Hermione reached door number 52, she breathed a sigh of relief. Usually, she enjoyed the short walk from St. Mungo's to her flat: That's why she didn't both to Aparate. But today, she was really tired after her long and exciting day.  
  
When she opened the door, the comfortable warmth of the flat hit her. You wouldn't be able to tell how comfortable the apartment building was from the outside: like St. Mungo's, it was disguised as a rundown old building to fool the Muggles. In reality, it housed hundreds of witches and wizards. In fact, it was only one of five other all-wizard apartment buildings in London.  
  
Hermione threw her cloak carelessly onto the rack by the door. "Ron?" she called. "I'm home!" Ever since graduation from Hogwarts, she and Ron had been living in the small, one-bedroom flat together (they'd been dating since year six at school). It was affordable living space, which was good for the young couple. Hermione didn't make much while training to be a Healer, and Ron worked with his father at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry of Magic (he replaced old Perkins when he died). They didn't make much money.  
  
Well, that was about to change.  
  
Hermione went into the small living room. Ron, who had been sitting in his favorite chair, stood up quickly. "So? Did you...?" Hermione nodded, and Ron let out a whoop of triumph. He rushed over to his girlfriend and lifted her in the air, twirling her around. He stopped and kissed her, then put her down. "A Healer. Wow."  
  
"I know." Hermione plopped down onto the couch. "Oh, man, I'm beat. Those tests took hours." She smiled at Ron, who sat down beside her. "How was your day?"  
  
Ron groaned. "Horrible. Dad and I had to take care of a bunch of magically-tinkered shower-heads in Surrey."  
  
"What was wrong with them?"  
  
"Whenever the Muggles turned them on, it would shot motor oil at them." He suddenly smiled. "But guess who one of the victims in Little Whining was? Harry's fat cousin Dudley!"  
  
Hermione gasped, but she couldn't hide a grin. "What'd you do?"  
  
"Well, Dad and I had to disguise ourselves as, um, publers-"  
  
"Plumbers."  
  
"Whatever. Anyway, I think he recognized us. You should see his flat: huge place, and it's just him and his bloke of a roomate. I don't even think either of them work."  
  
Hermione tutted: she had no tolerance for lazy people. "So," she said, "what do you want me to fix for dinner?" She and Ron always took turns cooking meals. Actually, Ron's idea of "cooking" involved going to the Muggle take-out place around the corner. Hermione, on the other hand, liked to cook...without magic.  
  
But Ron shook his head. "Not tonight. I'm taking you out for dinner. Go get your best dress robes on: I'm taking you to Le Charme Magique."  
  
Hermione gasped. "Oh, Ron! That place is so..." She wanted to say "expensive", which was right: the all-wizard resturant was the most expensive in the country. But she didn't want to insult him, especially since she was now the "bread winner" of the household.  
  
"Don't worry, I've got the money," Ron said with a careless wave of his hand. Actually, he'd borrowed some from his brothers Fred and George, who were much better off then he was. But Hermione didn't need to know that. "Now, go! Our reservation is for seven-thirty."   
  
Half an hour later, Hermione was ready to go in her new dress robes of plum. Ron wore his stormy grey ones. They put on their cloaks and made the short walk to Le Charme Magique.  
  
The resturant was a sight to behold. Built out of solid gold bricks, and decorated with fairy lights. A red carpet led the way inside. But Muggles didn't know this: to them, the resturant that was so infamous in the wizard world was invisible.  
  
The interior looked like any really nice Muggle resturant...except that there were platters of food flying around. The resturant had no need for waiters or waitresses: the food delivered itself.  
  
The small waiting room was packed with witches and wizards. Hermione was worried that it would take forever to get a table as she and Ron went over to the host's table. "I have a reservation: Weasley, party of two."  
  
The snooty-looking host checked his list. "Ah, yes. It will be at least a forty-five minute wait."  
  
"Thank you." Ron shook the host's hand. As he did so, he slipped ten galleons into his hand.  
  
"Um...wait, sir," the host said hastily. "Yes, a table for two has just cleared out." He grabbed two menus. "Right this way, please."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione hissed as she and Ron were led into the back of the resturant.   
  
Ron grinned. "What? George told me that it insures good service." George would know: he was infamous in the London magical community as a playboy. In fact, just that past week he'd been on the cover of "Witch Weekly" as "Bachelor of the Year": "Exclusive interview with the rich and suave George Weasley, business tycoon".  
  
The host led them to a small table. The centerpiece of the table was two floating candles, casting a blue glow around them, and a small crystal vase of lilies. Ron pulled a chair out for Hermione, and the host gave them their menus.  
  
Though Ron had been chatty all the way to the resturant, he grew quiet during dinner. After Hermione finished her chicken, she looked at him. He'd barely touched his food, but Hermione suspected that it was only half-way because he'd ordered slugs (reminding him of a bad experience during his second year of school). "Ron? What's the matter?"  
  
"Um...I have to tell you something," Ron mumbled, staring down at his plate. He cleared his throat nervously and looked at her. "Hermione, we've been together for a really long time. Six years."  
  
"I know, Ron." She felt her heart begin to race.  
  
"And I've never regretted a second, Hermione. I love you more then anything in the world."  
  
"I love you, too, Ron." Hermione felt tears fill her eyes.  
  
"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Hermione." Ron got out of his chair, and pulled a small velvet box out of his cloak. He got down on one knee by her chair. "Hermione," he whispered, opening the box to review a diamond ring. "Will you marry me?"  
  
"Oh, my God," Hermione whispered. She looked into Ron's eyes. The love of her life. "Yes, Ron," she said. She got to her feet, and he did, too. Ignoring the "AW"s and clapping of the other resturant patrons, they kissed. And Hermione was the happiest she'd ever been in her whole life. 


	2. The Announcement

Part Two:  
  
Harry sighed and put down the paper he'd been staring blankly at for nearly five minutes. He was too distracted to do any of this now...  
  
A knock on the door was the perfect distraction. "Come in," he called blankly. Remus Lupin entered the office, and Harry stood up. "Remus, what can I do for you?" It still felt weird to call him by his first name. Well, we are colleagues now, he thought.  
  
"Just wanted to get a word in with you," Remus said, sitting down at the chair opposite Harry. "I know that you'll be leaving to go on holiday tomorrow."  
  
The term had just ended, and many of the students would be leaving the next day. Harry, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, would be leaving, too. To the Weasleys.  
  
Which was what he was so distracted about. He'd never felt so akward about going to the Burrow before. But something had happened that past summer...he had gone on holiday to Egypt with the Weasleys. After a night of talking, laughing, and drinking, he'd woken up in someone eles bed the next morning.  
  
Ginny's.  
  
He'd been so embarressed, he'd made an excuse and left the next day. He hadn't seen Ginny since, but he knew she'd be at the Burrow for Christmas, too. He didn't think she'd said anything to her family about what had happened between them, but Harry was still nervous about seeing her again...  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"What? Oh, sorry," Harry said apologenicly. "What do you need?"  
  
Harry had been working with Lupin for the past two years (a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher that lasted longer then a year? A miracle). Lupin had replaced McGonagall as the Transfiguration teacher, when she'd taken over as Headmistress: Dumbledore had died of old age. Harry was closest to Lupin out of anyone eles on the staff. And, of course, he was NOT close to Snape.  
  
"I just wanted to ask...what's up?"  
  
"Huh?" Does he suspect something?  
  
"I mean, with Thomas Weasley."  
  
"Oooh," Harry said, relieved. He was referring to Charlie Weasley's thirteen-year-old adopted son. When he'd married an older widow five year before, he'd adopted her two kids from her previous marriage. His adopted daughter, Renee, was a first year.  
  
"He's been acting out a lot in class lately," Lupin explained. "I've been talking to some of the other teachers, and he's had about seven detentions this term. You're close to the Weasleys, Harry, and I wanted to know if you know what's going on with him."  
  
"I don't," Harry said truthfully. "In fact, he acts perfectly fine in my classes."  
  
"Yes," Lupin said with a small smile. "You're his favorite teacher, and head of his house. So, you don't know what's wrong with him? No family problems?"  
  
Harry shrugged. "Don't know what to tell you, Remus. But I'm taking him and his sister to the Burrow with me tomorrow. Maybe I'll find out while I'm there."  
  
"Well, we all just wanted to, you know, intervene." Lupin stood up. "Oh, I'm glad it's the holidays."  
  
"Any plans, Remus?"  
  
"Oh, not really," Lupin said, blushing slightly. "Just thought I'd get together with Nymphadora-"  
  
"Ah," Harry said with a grin. "I see." He was referring to Tonks: Lupin was the only one allowed to call her by her first name. "Well, have fun."  
  
"See you next year, Harry." Harry stood up, and they shook hands. When Lupin was gone, Harry sat back down.  
  
Well, at least he had a mission to distract him over the holiday. Instead of obsessing about Ginny, he would worry about Tom's problems...  
  
The next day, instead of going down to meet the Hogwarts Express at the platform, Tom and Renee Weasley met their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and family friend, Professor Potter. They walked down to the gates of the school, and Harry stuck out his wand. BANG! The purple, triple-decker Knight Bus appeared.  
  
"Thirty-three sickles," said the conductor (it was a different pimply-faced kid then it had been years before). Harry paid, and he and the kids took their seats in the back. Despite the constant bangs and the horrible driving (Ernie was still driver), Renee soon feel asleep. Harry stared out the window; out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Tom was pretending to read a school book.  
  
"Homework?" he finally asked. Tom looked at him.  
  
"Yeah, it's some reading for Potions." He said the final word with such disgust that Harry had to smile. "Hey," Tom said suddenly, "Thanks for not giving us any homework over the holidays."  
  
"Well, what are holidays for, anyway? Not homework."  
  
Tom smiled again. "Yeah."   
  
"Hey, Tom, I was talking to Professor Lupin last night..." Tom's face suddenly turned white. "Relax, man. It's just...you've been getting into trouble lately."  
  
"Yeah? So?" Tom was suddenly defensive.  
  
"Relax, I was just wondering what was up." Harry said it as casually as he could.  
  
"Nothing. All my teachers are lame." Tom crossed his arms. "Um, except for you, of course," he added hastily.  
  
"Of course," Harry said with a smile. But he knew that he would get nothing out of Tom, not now, at least...  
  
The Knight Bus arrived at the Burrow. Harry nudged Renee awake, and they grabbed their luggage and exited the bus. The grounds around the large house (held up by just magic) were covered in snow. As the bus let out a BANG and disapeared, the front door to the Burrow flew open, and the plump form of Molly Weasley appeared.  
  
"Harry and the kids are here!" she called inside before hurrying out. Renee rushed to her grandmother and hugged her tight. Then, Mrs. Weasley managed to hug the reluctant Tom. Finally, she reached Harry. "Oh, you look wonderful," she gushed.  
  
"So do you, Mrs. Weasley," he said, kissing her cheek. He was past the embarressment stage, but he'd never be able to call this woman, the closest he'd ever had to a mother, by her first name.  
  
Out of the house came Charlie and his wife Ella. Ella was carrying her two-year-old twin daughters, Vanessa and Victoria. Unlike her two older children (who had blond hair and darker skin), these two had the Weasley red hair and freckles. Charlie hugged Renee and Tom (who squirmed), and Ella put down the girls and hugged them, too.  
  
And from there, the whole family piled out. "We can't all hug here, get inside!" Mrs. Weasley commanded, and they all went into the nice, warm Burrow.  
  
Inside, the greetings continued. It seemed to Harry that everyone had already showed up before them. There was Ron and Hermione, Fred and Angelina (with her three-month pregnaut belly), George, Percy and his daughters Cassie and Polly (he'd divorsed from Penelope when she came out of the closet a year before), Bill (who had come out of the closet himself two years before), Mr. Weasley...  
  
And Ginny.  
  
She's the only one that didn't rush forward to greet Harry. She stood by the tree, pretending to be fixing some of the tinsil. As soon as Harry could break away from the crowd, he went over to her. After all, he had to be polite. She pretended not to see him as he approached, until he said, "Hello, Ginny."  
  
She turned around. "Oh. Hello, Harry." She smiled, but immediatly turned back around to "fix" something on the tree.  
  
"Um...have you had a good season?"  
  
"Oh, yes. And you?" She didn't even turn to look at him.  
  
"Yeah." Harry wasn't sure what to say now, and Ginny wasn't exactly helping him out. Luckily, Mrs. Weasley announced lunch.  
  
All nineteen of them sat, comfortably, around the magically-expanded table. Mrs. Weasley had pulled out all stops for the "Welcome Feast": two large turkies, multiple bowls of side dishes, pitchers of butterbeer. Everyone dug in.  
  
It wasn't until dessert, a humongous trifle, that Ron stood up. He nervously tapped his glass of butterbeer, and everyone turned to him. "Um...I have an announcement to make."  
  
"Oh, dear God!" Mrs. Weasley blurted. "Please don't be gay!" Everyone turned to stare at her. She blushed and looked at her eldest son. "Oh, Bill, dear, I didn't mean it like that..."  
  
"It's alright, Mum," Bill said, cracking a smile. His coming out of the closet had made his mother paranoid. "Go ahead, Ron."  
  
"Well, um..." Ron cleared his throat. "As you all know, Hermione and I have been together for a long time. Well...we've decided that we want to get married."  
  
There was a silence around the whole table. Then Mrs. Weasley let out a happy yell and wrapped her youngest son in a hug. "Oh, Ronnie!"  
  
"Congratulations, you two."  
  
"When's the wedding?"  
  
"We were thinking about spring, perhaps," Hermione said, not being able to surpress a grin. "Just a little thing...friends and family..."  
  
"Well, it's better then nothing," Mrs. Weasley said, giving Fred a quick glance. He and Angelina had alloped without telling anyone the year before. "Well, I'll be happy to help anyway I can."  
  
Harry went over to his best friend and gave him a quick hug. Then he wrapped Hermione in a hug and kissed her cheek. "Congratulations," he said.  
  
"Harry, we want you to be our best man," Hermione gushed.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
Harry was happy. After all, his two best friends were getting married! But he felt a little...what? Jealous? Left out? Where does this leave me? he wondered.  
  
Then he glanced over at Ginny... 


	3. The Guest List

Part Three:   
  
Even though the wedding wouldn't be until May, Hermione insisted on getting the guest list written out over Christmas...and she made Ron help her. He protested: he wanted to talk to his brothers and Harry.  
  
"I don't care if you invite giants to the wedding!"  
  
"Oh, honestly, Ron, it'll only take a few minutes."  
  
After two hours of arguing, writing and crossing out names, they had a pretty good idea of who would be at their wedding.  
  
*Harry Potter  
  
*Ginny Weasley  
  
*Fred and Angelina Weasley  
  
*George Weasley and guest  
  
"Um...Hermione? Why are you writing down the most obvious ones?"  
  
"What?" Hermione looked at him, slightly annoyed. "Ron, I just want to get a good idea of-"  
  
"But we already KNOW that they're going!"  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes and continued writing.  
  
*Percy Weasley, Cassie and Polly (Penelope?)  
  
"We can't invite Penelope!" Ron said quickly.  
  
"Why not? I always liked her."  
  
"Hermione, she's my brother's lesbian ex-wife! That would be so awkward."  
  
"Fine, fine!" Hermione crossed out Penelope's name. "There? Happy?"  
  
"Whatever." Ron was still annoyed that he had to sit there.  
  
*Charlie and Ella Weasley; Tom, Renne, Victoria, Vanessa  
  
*Bill Weasley and guest  
  
"Um, I don't know about that..." Ron said. "I mean, what if he brings a...friend? Mum would freak."  
  
"We can't have George bring a guest and not let Bill," Hermione said calmly. "If he does bring a...friend, well, your mother will just have to deal with it."  
  
*Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley  
  
*Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Granger  
  
*Rebecca O'Neil, Donald  
  
"Whose that?"  
  
Hermione gave Ron a shocked look. "Don't you remember her? She's my only cousin! Last Christmas, at my parent's house? And she has a four-year-old son out of wedlock, remember?"  
  
"Oh, yeah, her..." Ron didn't really remember: he just remembered who strange Hermione's parents' Muggle home was.  
  
*Aunt Shannon and Uncle Joseph O'Neil  
  
"Rebecca's parents from Ireland," Hermione snapped before Ron could ask.  
  
*Lavender Brown and guest  
  
*Parvati Patil and guest  
  
"Huh?" Ron was clearly confused. "I thought you hated them."  
  
"After living in a dormitory with them for seven years, we had no choice but to get close," Hermione explained patiently. "Anyway, Lavender invited me to her wedding last year. I couldn't go, though..."  
  
*Seamus Finnigan and guest  
  
*Dean Thomas and guest  
  
*Neville Longbottom and guest  
  
"Yuck, he'll probably bring that batty old grandmother of his!"  
  
Hermione shook her head. "No, she died a couple of years back."  
  
"Oh..." Ron felt his face flush a bit. "Alright, then..."  
  
*Hannah Abbot   
  
*Ernie McMillen  
  
*Justin Fitch-Fletchly  
  
*Luna Lovegood  
  
*Alicia Spinnet  
  
*Katie Bell  
  
"But you barely knew them!"  
  
"I knew them a lot more then you know!" Hermione snapped. "Do you know anything about girls, Ron? Honestly!"  
  
"Well, at least they were on the Quidditch team with me..."  
  
*Viktor Krum and guest  
  
"Oh, NO!"  
  
"RON!"  
  
"Anyone but him!"  
  
"Ron, we're still friends! Anything we had other then that...well, it ended a long time ago." Hermione's back suddenly straightened. "Besides, he's already married."  
  
"Oh," Ron said, unable to hide a grin.  
  
*Professor Remus Lupin and guest  
  
*Nymphadora Tonks and guest  
  
Ron snickered. "They'll probably just come together." Hermione smiled, too, but kept writing without a word.  
  
*Professor Minerva McGonagall  
  
"Hermione, are you going to invite all our teachers?" Ron demanded, looking frustrated.  
  
"No, just her," Hermione said with a sniff. She examined the list. "That makes our wedding party just under fifty people. A good size, I think."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Ron, you really need to start caring more. This is our WEDDING we're talking about!"  
  
"Look, are we done yet?"  
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I suppose..."  
  
"Great." Nearly tipping his chair over, Ron hurried out of the room. With a smile, Hermione put the list away...for now.  
  
Somehow, all the adults at the Burrow got their hands on the list. Everyone had a suggestion to make:  
  
"Why not invite Oliver Wood? I haven't seen him in ages!"  
  
"Um..." Hermione looked at her fiancee nervously. "Neither of us realy knew him..." Harry, Fred, George, and Angelina all looked a bit disapointed. Ron sighed.   
  
"Oh, all right, we'll add him."  
  
Hermione shot him a mean look, but he didn't see.  
  
Ginny looked over the list. "You're invited Parvati?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"Well, why not invite her sister, too?"  
  
Hermione gritted her teeth together. "Well, I didn't really know Padma. But it does say "guest" next to Parvati's name..."  
  
"Oh, yes..." Ginny saw the look on Hermione's face and looked a bit frightened. "Well, all right, then..."  
  
"Maybe some people from the Ministry would like to come!" Arthur suggested to his son. Ron gave him a dark look, and Mr. Weasley stammmered, "Or perhaps not..."  
  
"It's your wedding, you can invite anyone you want," Mrs. Weasley said, and Hermione really apreciated it...until Mrs. Weasley continued: "But honestly, Ron, I thought you might have thought of your family a bit more. What about your Uncle Mark and Aunt Una?"  
  
"Mum, I haven't seen them since I was four..."   
  
"Yuck, don't invite that old bat!" George yelled. "Aunt Una's crazy, Mum! I heard that she set their house on fire recently..."  
  
"George!"  
  
Hermione took the list from Harry, who was now examining it. "Any objections?" she snarled. She was clearly in a bad mood.  
  
"Um...no, none at all," Harry said carefully. Hermione sighed and took the list back up the room she and Ron were staying in, looking it in her trunk. She had no idea that it would cause so much trouble... 


	4. The Dress

Part Four:  
  
Harry observed Tom over the holidays...mainly to take his mind off Ginny. She was avoiding him, no doubt about it: whenever he walked into a room she was in, she'd make an excuse to leave.  
  
After the New Year, he couldn't take it anymore: he had to approach her. He found her in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Weasley store leftovers. "Anything I can do to help, Mrs. Weasley."  
  
"Oh, yes, dear, there is," Mrs. Weasley said quickly. She handed him a plate of trifle. "Finish this off, dear."  
  
As Harry sat down at the table, Ginny shot him a look. "Mum, I'll be right back..."  
  
"Oh, can you wait a second?" Mrs. Weasley asked, walking out of the kitchen. "I need to check on the girls, Percy and Charlie asked me to watch them for awhile." When Ginny began to object, Mrs. Weasley said, "Just watch the eggs, dear, they're boiling on the stove."  
  
Ginny, looking defeated, pretended to be very absorbed in the eggs. Harry looked over at her, and thought he saw a blur of red hair: Ginny had been looking at him. He cleared his throat loudly, in a Professor Umbridge style, and she looked at him.  
  
"Hey, Ginny," he said cheerfully.   
  
"Oh, hi." Like before, she refused to look at him.  
  
"Look..." Harry decided that it was time to confront her. "About what happened on holiday last summer, I-"  
  
Ginny suddenly looked at him. "Look, Harry, we were both drunk. It was just a mistake, that's all. No big deal, right?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry nodded. "Yeah, no big deal."  
  
"So...you didn't tell Ron or Hermione, did you?" Ginny suddenly looked a bit nervous.  
  
"No...nobody."   
  
Ginny gave a small smile. "Yeah, me, neither. Well, except for Luna." Ginny was living in a small flat in (TA-DA!) London with Luna "Looney" Lovegood.  
  
"Oh." Harry stabbed his trifle a little with his fork. "Well...do you want to, you know, talk about it?"  
  
"No." Ginny said it so quickly and sharply that Harry jumped a little.  
  
"Well, I just thought that...you seemed to..."  
  
"What?"  
  
Harry couldn't say it. He couldn't confront her. You're being so distant, I wanted to know what you were thinking, was what he wanted to say. But he just mumbled, "nevermind", and left the room.  
  
******************************  
  
Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley was walking by Hermione and Ron's room after checking on her granddaughters. Ron wasn't there, but Hermione was. Mrs. Weasley stuck her head in. "Hermione, come her, dear. I want to show you something."  
  
"Um...okay." Hermione put down the book she'd been reading and followed Mrs. Weasley down the hall and up the flights of stairs to the attic.  
  
"Since you and Ron are getting married, I wanted to show you something..." Mrs. Weasley pushed a couple of boxes aside to show a dress on a headless manaquin.  
  
And the dress was absolutely HIDEOUS. It must have been white at one point, but it was now yellowed with age, and covered in dust. It had short sleeves, and was very lacy.   
  
"Oh, that was my wedding dress!" Mrs. Weasley gushed, not noticing the look of horror on her future daughter-in-law's face. "I haven't been up here to see that thing in years! That damn ghoul was always making so much noise..." They'd actually managed to get rid of the ghoul recently, which made staying at the Burrow all the more pleasant. But for a fleeing moment, Hermione wished that the ghoul was still there, if it had kept them from seeing this thing...  
  
Mrs. Weasley took this moment to look at Hermione. "I know that it doesn't look very fancy, but I could easily fix it up. It would mean so much to me if you wore this for your wedding."  
  
Hermione almost keeled over. She expects me to wear that thing? No. Way. "Um...I'm so honored, Mrs. Weasley-"  
  
"Oh, dear, you're going to be my daughter soon!" Mrs. Weasley said. "Please, call me Molly...or Mum!" She seemed to think this was very funny, as she began to chuckle.  
  
"Um...Molly...I'm so honored," Hermione repeated. "But...wouldn't you rather have Ginny wear it?"  
  
"Oh, Ginny," Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Well, you know how she is. Horribly independent, don't know when the girl will come around and get married."  
  
"She will eventually, I'm sure," Hermione said desperatly. There was only one thing she could do: "I'd love to wear the dress, Mrs.-I mean, Molly. But, you see, my mother always wanted me to wear her wedding dress..."  
  
"Oh." Mrs. Weasley began to flush a bit. She laughed nervously. "How silly of me. I completely forgot...well, of coures you'll want to wear your own mother's wedding dress." She began to walk out of the attic.  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione said, following her out of the dusty place. She felt horrible: she'd lied about her mother's wedding dress. She didn't have one: it had been destroyed in a fire before Hermione was born.   
  
But Mrs. Weasley didn't need to know that.  
  
"Don't worry about it dear. Well, I better get back downstairs before poor Ginny ruins our lunch." And with that, Mrs. Weasley took off down the stairs. Hermione stood there, and she couldn't help feeling more then a little guilty. 


	5. The Real Dress

Part Five:  
  
After the holiday was over, things went back to normal...sort of. Hermione was working longer hours at St. Mungo's now that she was officially a Healer. She specialized in potion poisoning, but she was also trained in helping people who'd been cursed.  
  
At five o'clock on a January evening, Hermione was happy to be leaving the hospital. It had been her longest day ever: three Polyjuice mixups (three brothers had been trying to turn into each other but instead had turned into half-human, half-rat things), a shriking potion gone horribly wrong, and a wizard in a coma after his girlfriend slipped him a messed-up love potion.  
  
But as Hermione was heading out the door, one of the Healers from the curses unit grabbed her. "Granger! We're short-handed at curses, we need you for the next three hours."  
  
"THREE HOURS?"  
  
"Oglesby and Peppercorn are both out today. We need you, Granger."  
  
Hermione sighed. "I'll have to contact my fiancee..."  
  
"The secretary can have an owl sent to him."  
  
As she was practically dragged to the unit by the other Healer, Hermione felt her heart sink. She'd promised Ron that she'd go out to dinner with him (this time at a Muggle seafood place that he was dying to try). She felt horribly, and wished that she at least had time to write him an owl herself.  
  
But she was busy for the next three hours, with a witch with two heads, a young boy with one eye ("that brother of his, I'm going to KILL him!" the mother shrieked), and an older wizard with his two front teeth expanding (just as Hermione's had done the fourth year). By eight o'clock, she was dead tired. She dashed out the door before anyone could stop her.  
  
Hermione knew that she should Apparate home, but she knew that the cool night would clear her head. She looked in the windows of some of the Muggle shops as she walked. Then suddenly, she stopped.  
  
In the window of one of the shops was a wedding dress. But not just any old wedding dress: Hermione's dream dress. SPRING DRESS JUST IN! 30% OFF! the sign said.   
  
The dress on display would be perfect. Long, not too lacy, sparkly on top, sleeveless. Fairly simple, but fancy. Forgetting her fatigue, Hermione dashed inside and asked to try on the dress. The lady got the dress from the window ("one of a kind, miss"), and Hermione, praying that it would fit, took it into the dressing room.  
  
She wasn't sure if some magic was helping, but the dress fit perfectly. She tryed on the veil that came with it, and looked at herself in the mirror. And practically gasped.  
  
This was it. The one.  
  
"How much?" she asked the saleslady, after spending nearly 20 minutes in the dressing room, twirling around and admiring herself.  
  
"2700 pounds."  
  
Hermione nearly had a heart attack. That was the sales price? That was like 900 galleons! Hermione knew that Ron wouldn't go for it...but it was the PERFECT DRESS!  
  
She made her choice: "Could I put it on hold?"  
  
"Of course." The saleslady raised her eyebrows, probably thinking that Hermione couldn't afford the dress. She was halfway right: even with her high-paying job as a Healer, she didn't have 900 galleons to blow...I'll just discuss it with Ron, she thought as she left the store and headed down the street. Trying on the dress had put a new spring in her step.  
  
Hermione finally made it home, and opened the door. Before she could head into the living room, Ron came out to greet her. "I was getting worried: they said you'd be off by eight."  
  
"I was. I just got...sidetracked." As Hermione headed into the living room with Ron at her heels, she told him how she'd found a gorgeous wedding dress in a Muggle shop. "It's so beautiful, Ron. I really want you to see it, so I put it on hold."  
  
"Well, if you want it, go ahead and get it," Ron said. Then he paused. "Um...just wondering, how much is it?"  
  
Hermione gulped. "2700 pounds." Ron didn't know Muggle money, so he didn't look as startled as a Muggle would've. "Um, that's about 900 galleons."  
  
"WHAT?!" Ron's face turned red. "Hermione, honestly, 900 galleons. We don't have-"  
  
"But, Ron, it's one of a kind! Perfect!"  
  
"Hermione," Ron said with a moan, "why do you need to have a 900 GALLEON dress for our wedding?"  
  
Hermione felt herself flush with anger. "What am I supposed to wear, Ron? That atrocity that your mother calls a "wedding dress"?" With that, she stalked into the bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it with a spell.   
  
Ron didn't try to get in, but he would've been able to with "Alohomora" if he'd really wanted to. Obviously my feelings aren't all that important to him, she thought huffily, crossing her arms and staring out the window at the darkening street below. She knew she was being immature, but she wanted their wedding to be perfect. She already knew that it wouldn't be the large, extravagent wedding that she'd dreamed of as a little girl, and she was fine with that: a small, cozy wedding would work. But I just want this one thing, she thought. And I'm going to have it...  
  
The next day on her lunch break, Hermione took 900 galleons from her Gringotts vault and exchanged them for Muggle money. She had her 2700 pounds, and she went back to the dress shop to buy the dress.  
  
"Would you like to try it on again?" the saleslady, clearly surprised that she was back to get the dress, asked. Hermione agreed. Just like the night before, she went into the dressing room and put on the dress. She turned to look in the mirror...  
  
And frowned. The dress and veil were beautiful, yes, but they seemed much too fancy for her. And she knew, with a sinking heart, that Ron was right...she shouldn't spend so much on a dress. She quickly took it off and gave the dress back to the saleslady. "I've changed my mind." The lady looked pretty pissed off. She probably thinks I had no intention of buying the dress, Hermione thought. Oh, well.  
  
Hermione still had some time before going back to the hospital, so she searched the sales racks for another dress. And she felt her heart burst with happiness as she pulled out a dress even more perfect then the 900 galleon one: strapeless, with beaded details, made of chiffon and satin (the more expensive dress was silk). This dress was only 400 pounds: approximately 130 galleons.  
  
When Hermione tried it on (the saleslady rolled her eyes), she knew that Ron wouldn't object to the small splurge. Hermione bought the dress, rushed it home, and arrived back at the hospital for her afternoon shift.  
  
She managed to get out of St. Mungo's by five that night (to her relief). She Apparated home, for once, and put on the dress before he came. She waited for him in bed: he was home soon after.  
  
"Hermione? You here yet?"  
  
"In the bedroom."  
  
As Ron came in, he was saying, "Listen, I was just thinking: it's your wedding day, and you should get the dress you-WHOA!"  
  
Hermione grinned. There she was, wedding dress and veil and all. "Do you like it?" She stood up, twirled, and stood before him.  
  
"Is...is that it?"  
  
Hermione shook his head. "This one was a lot cheaper." She looked thoughtfully. "But, what was that you were saying as you came in?"  
  
"Um...nothing." Ron grinned with relief. He examined her, his eyes flashing. "Wow...you look absolutely beautiful."  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around her fiancee's waist and pulled him close. "What do you want to do?"  
  
"Just rip that dress right off you."  
  
"Don't you dare rip it."  
  
Ron grinned and kissed her. "I love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
And they forgot the fight from the night before...and forgot about the wedding dress as it lay on the floor. 


	6. Family Issues

Part Six:  
  
Harry was more distracted then ever when he returned to school for the next term. Ginny's coldness towards him, and Tom's increasingly bad attitude, were keeping his thoughts distracted.  
  
One early Febuary afternoon, two weeks before the Quidditch match against Slytherin, Harry was sitting in his office. He didn't have a class right then, and he needed some time to think by himself. But a sharp knock on the door prevented this. With a sigh, Harry got up from his desk and shuffled to the door, opening it.  
  
To his disapointment, there stood his least favorite person at the magical school: Professor Severus Snape. And with him, looking really mad, was Thomas Weasley. "Professor Snape, what can I do for you?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice light. He didn't call his colleague by his first name: that would be asking for trouble. He just tried to steer clear of him and be formal whenever they had a run in.  
  
"Potter," Snape said sharply, pushing past him. "I've had it. The rest of us have had it."  
  
Harry shot a lot at Tom, who looked down at the floor. "Tom? What happened?"  
  
"Yes, Weasley, why don't you tell Professor Potter how you made Miss Turner's cauldron explode, covering everyone in sight with a dangerous growing potion?" As Snape said "Professor Potter", it almost sounded sarcastic.  
  
"Um..." Harry cleared his throat. "Why don't you both have a seat."  
  
"I'm not staying," Snape said sharply, heading out of the office. "I just wanted to deliver him to his head of house for punishment." Snape's face suddenly turned dangerous. "But be warned, Potter: it had better be a fair one, or I will punish him myself." With a swish of his robes, Snape left the room. Harry, filled with a bit of rage, slammed it behind him.   
  
He turned around to find Tom, still standing and staring at him. "Well? I told you to have a seat." Tom flinched at the harshness in his favorite professor's tone, and took a seat. Harry went to his desk and sat across from him. He stared into the boy's blue eyes. "Explain yourself."  
  
"Snape's a dick."  
  
Harry didn't argue, and he held back a smile. "That's not a good excuse for making Amanda Turner's cauldron explode."  
  
"It was the closest one to his desk."  
  
Harry sighed. "Tom, this is the fifth offense you've had in Potions."  
  
"Yeah, but-"  
  
"And then there's your other classes." Harry looked at his student, his friend's nephew, carefully. "I gave you the chance to tell me what was wrong, but now I'm going to have to punish you."  
  
"Professor Potter, that's not-"  
  
"Don't say it's not fair, Tom. It is."  
  
Tom scowled. "I thought you were cool."  
  
"Oh, come on," Harry snapped, causing Tom to jump. "What d'you expect me to do, eh? Laugh at your little pranks? Tom, I am your teacher, and your head of house. And I'm going to have to punish you." Harry swallowed: he knew what he had to do, but he seriously didn't want to do it. "I'm going to pull you from the next Quidditch game."  
  
Tom gapped at him in disbelief. Harry knew how much Quidditch meant to the boy: his adopted father had been playing it with him for years, and he was an excellent Beater, like his uncles. "But Professor, you can't!"  
  
"I have to, Tom."  
  
"No! Please, I'll do anything!"  
  
Harry stared at the boy's face. Maybe he was being too harsh. He knew how devastated he'd be if it were him. He sighed. "Alright, Tom. Here's the deal: if you tell me what's going on, you can play. I'll just have you...clean bedpans in the hospital wing. Without magic."   
  
Tom gave a small smile: he remembered a story about his Uncle Ron having that same punishment his third year. But his smile faded. He sighed. "Okay, Professor. It's just...the twins."  
  
Harry knew that he wasn't talking about his uncles Fred and George. He meant his little half sisters, Victoria and Vanessa. "What about them?"  
  
"Didn't you hear my mom and dad over the holiday?" Tom exploded. "It was 'Oh, look! Tori said "dada"!' or 'Nessa used the potty all by herself!'"   
  
Harry smiled a little again. He remembered how proud Ella had been when little Vanessa didn't pee her pants for once. "Tom, they're just little kids. Of course your parents are gonna make a fuss over them. When they're older, they'll start ignoring them, just like you and Renee." This earned Harry small smile, but he suspected that Tom was holding back. "That's not all, is it?"  
  
"Well...no."  
  
"What is it, then?"  
  
Tom looked down in his lap. "My dad...I mean, my real dad...died six years ago, on November 2." He looked up at his professor, who nodded to encourage him to continue. Tom looked back at his lap. "Well, Mum always did something to remember it. Back before I went to school, she'd, I dunno, light some candles or something. And when I started school, she'd send me a letter." Tom looked at his professor again. "But this year...nothing. She didn't even aknowledge it. It's like she doesn't even care anymore."  
  
Harry suddenly remembered something from the holiday: Charlie had been asking Tom what he wanted for his birthday in March. "Wow, at least someone is good at remembering dates," Tom had snapped, giving his mother a pointed look. Ella had looked startled when Tom suddenly stormed out of the room.  
  
"Is that what you've been so upset about?"  
  
Tom nodded. "I mean, it was so easy for her to replace him. But...I can't. Charlie's really great, but...he's not my dad."  
  
"Look, maybe you should talk to your mum about this..."  
  
Tom gave his professor a sharp look. "Don't tell her. You won't...will you?"  
  
"No." Harry sighed and stood up. "Tom, if you want to talk about anything...well, you know I'm here for you."  
  
"Okay," Tom said, following suit.  
  
"Now, try to behave in your classes. At least in Defense Against the Dark Arts: Professor Lupin is an old friend of mine." Tom smiled, nodded, and walked out of the room. "Good luck with those bedpans!" he called after his student, who waved. Chuckling, Harry sat back down.  
  
Well, that problem was sort of taken care of.  
  
Now, he would be forced to deal with is own... 


	7. Candles and Miscarries

Part Seven:  
  
As Febuary came to a close, Hermione was getting more and more anxious about the wedding. She was contacting Muggle flower shops, and wizard candle shops (she really wanted the same floating candles that Le Charme Magique had). And, of course, the work at St. Mungo's kept her very busy.  
  
Too busy for Ron, as it was. And he was jealous. She could see it. But there was nothing she could do: between being a Healer and planning her wedding all by herself (she'd declined any offers for help, because she believed that "if you want something done right, you do it yourself"), there wasn't any time for...um, fun.  
  
One night, Hermione was furiously writing out owls to all the places she knew that sold candles, but none of them had the floating ones with the blue flames. "Maybe I should just call the resturant and have them sell me their's...or at least tell me where they got them," she mused.  
  
"Maybe you should forget about the damn candles," Ron, who was reading the "Daily Prophet" nearby, muttered. But she heard him, and turned around to give him a glare.  
  
"Ron, I just want our wedding to be romantic. Obviously you don't seem to care..."  
  
He'd had it. He stood up and slammed down the paper. "Don't tell me that I don't care, Hermione. It's just NOT THAT IMPORTANT!"  
  
Hermione gasped. "How can you say that?!"  
  
"Well, it's not!" he fumed. "The ceremony isn't what matters! It's what comes after the ceremony that important!"  
  
She stood up. "How could you just be thinking about the honeymoon, you-"  
  
"I'm not talking about the damn honeymoon!" Ron yelled before she could go into an all-out rant. But his voice grew gentler. "I'm talking about our marriage. The wedding is one day, the honeymoon is maybe a week...and our marriage is going to be for the rest of our lives. THAT'S what I'm thinking about. That one day...it doesn't matter to me that much."  
  
Hermione was clearly cooling off, but she was still angry. "It may not matter to you, but it matters to me. You're right: it is only one day. But I want it to be a day to remember, and-"  
  
Her sentence was interupted when an owl flew through the open window, dropping a note on the table Hermione had been working at. She and Ron looked at each other, and she picked it up. It read:  
  
"ANGELINA AT ST. MUNGO'S. DON'T KNOW IF THE BABY IS ALRIGHT. JUST WANTED TO LET YOU KNOW. -FRED"  
  
"Oh, my God," Hermione whispered. Ron came up behind her and read the note. He muttered a curse when he read it. Hermione hurried out to the hall and put on her cloak. "I'm going to see her."  
  
"Hermione, it's nearly ten o'clock at night," Ron said desperately. "You can see her when you go into work tomorrow..." He was just as concerned about his sister-in-law as she was, but he didn't want his fiancee running around anymore.  
  
"I have to go," Hermione said quickly. "They're probably not letting any visitors in, that's why Fred had time to write some owls. But I'm a Healer, so..." She gulped. "See you." With a CRACK, she was gone.  
  
She Apparated to the hospital. She went up to the receptionist, who looked up at her. "Hermione! I thought you left hours ago!"  
  
"I had to come back for something," she said quickly. "Do you know where Angelina Weasley is being held?"  
  
The receptionist checked her list. "Right on this floor, room 073," she said, pointing down the left hall. Hermione quickly thanked her and took off as fast as she could without running. She reached the room, and went inside.  
  
Angelina was lying in bed with her eyes closed. There was nobody eles in there, and Hermione was sure that she was asleep. But as soon as Hermione sat down beside her, she opened her eyes. They were sparkling with tears. "Oh, Hermione..." she said, trying to sit up.  
  
"What happened?" Hermione asked gently as she took her hand. Angelina squeezed it before she spoke:  
  
"It was a cauldron explosion," she said in a small voice. "I was making a potion...a sleeping one, Fred told me he was having trouble sleeping, excited about the baby, he said...I wanted to surprised him with it, since I knew he wouldn't think to make it himself." Angelina smiled, but it quickly faded. "But then...I don't know what I did wrong. I remember the explosion...then I was here." Hermione saw some tears run down her future sister-in-law's face. "I've lost the baby."  
  
"Did the Healer say-"  
  
"They don't have to," Angelina said quickly. "I can feel it. It's gone." Angelina touched her stomach. "Oh, God..." She let go of Hermione's hand and covered her face, sobbing. Hermione sat on the bed beside her and put an arm around her. She wasn't sure what to do: she'd never experienced something like this before. But she felt an aching in her heart for the baby that Angelina and Fred were supposed to have. They would've been great parents, she thought sadly. It just wasn't fair...  
  
Fred suddenly burst in, and Angelina looked up. "The Healer said I could come in now," he explained quickly. He sat at his wife's other side. "Did they say...?"  
  
Angelina shook her head. "I think it's gone," she said as calmly as she could. Hermione could see Fred's eyes fill with tears now, too. She stood up.   
  
"I'm gonna go," she said softly. She kissed Angelina's wet cheek and hugged her, then did the same to Fred. "You two...you write if you need anything. Are they making you stay the night?" Angelina nodded, too consumed by her grief to answer with words now. "I'll come and see you tomorrow morning."  
  
"Thank you, Hermione," Fred said softly. Hermione gave him one last sad smile, then walked out of the room.  
  
Their baby was gone. But at least they still have each other, she told herself. And they didn't even have a wedding, she remembered.  
  
Suddenly, the whole thing was starting to look very unimportant...in the scheme of things.  
  
When she reached the lobby, she Disapperated (it wasn't allowed in the rest of the hospital). She had to talk to Ron, right away... 


	8. The Vicar

Part Eight:  
  
Angelina, having nothing better to do, threw herself into helping with Hermione and Ron's wedding. If it had been anyone eles, Hermione would have told them that it was HER business, not theirs, what flowers she got for her wedding. But Hermione knew that Angelina needed something to keep her mind off her grief, so she let her help.  
  
Angelina turned out to be a big help. She actually found the blue-flame candles that Hermione had fallen in love with, and for the bargain-basement price of a dozen for two sickles. After that, Hermione was very grateful for Angelina, and gave her a very important job, one that she was too busy to do herself: find the perfect place for them to get married.  
  
It took Angelina three days to find it, but on that third day, when Hermione Apparated home from work (the wedding preparations and long days at St. Mungo's made her too tired to walk), she found Angelina sitting in the living room, talking to Ron and looking very excited. They both looked up when Hermione came in.  
  
"Oh, Hermione!" Angelina cried, springing to her feet. Hermione couldn't but notice, with a sad heart, how flat Angelina's stomach had become again. But Angelina was all smiles. "I did it!"  
  
"You found a place?" Hermione became excited, too, and they hugged and squealed. Ron rolled his eyes and stood up.  
  
"Okay, ladies, enough of this huggie-fest. Angelina wants to take us to it."  
  
Angelina pulled a small Muggle soda can from her pocket. "I've made this into a Portkey. It'll take us there in about half an hour: that's when it'll look great."  
  
Hermione was confused, but she nodded. They had a quick dinner of takeout (it was Ron's night to "cook") before pulling the soda can out again. Angelina checked her watch. "Alright, grab it!" They all did, and Hermione shut her eyes as they traveled. She hated Portkeys, with a passion. But they couldn't Apparate: she and Ron didn't know where they were going.  
  
They arrived on they foot of a grassy hill. The sun was setting behind it. "Come on, it's up here," Angelina said, leading the way. Hermione and Ron followed her up the hill. When they reached it, Hermione gasped. It was gorgeous.  
  
It was a tiny abandoned church, with a little bell tower and everything. Hermione thought it was adorable. The sun was setting behind it, making it all the more beautiful. "Oh, Angelina..." she whispered. "It's perfect." And Ron, for once, had to agree.  
  
The second-best thing that Angelina did for the wedding was help Hermione deal with making plans with her parents. Angelina wasn't uncomfortable around Muggles: in fact, her mother was one. So when Hermione announced that she was going to see her parents that weekend, and Ron backed out, Angelina offered to go.  
  
"That's so sweet of you," Hermione said. "The truth is, I don't really like to go there alone. When I bring someone, they don't ask as many stupid questions."  
  
"No problem," Angelina said carelessly. She took a sip of her tea: they were sitting on the balcony of Angelina and Fred's home. "Fred is going to be at the shop all day, so I might as well get out of the house."  
  
Hermione, once again, felt horrible for Angelina. When she and Fred began trying to get pregnaut, she'd given up her position on the Wales Wallopers Quidditch team (she'd been a starting Chaser), and became a full-time "house wife". But that role didn't suit her very well, and without kids around...  
  
Angelina seemed to be reading Hermione's thoughts. "We're going to try again. After the wedding, that is."  
  
"That's great," Hermione said cheerfully. Angelina nodded and stared down into her teacup.  
  
"I hope it'll work."  
  
"Well, why wouldn't it? If you can do it once, right?"  
  
Angelina nodded again. "Yeah, but you know...pregnancy gets complicated. I hope you have better luck when you and Ron have kids."  
  
Have kids? Hermione, truthfully, hadn't thought about it that much. She was too busy now for a family, but she knew that Ron wanted kids. "Eventually," she said after a pause. "Ron really wants a family, naturally."  
  
"You don't?"  
  
Hermione knew that she did, but not right that very second. That's what she said to Angelina, who nodded. "Wish we'd waited a bit longer," was her responce. Hermione felt very sad for her.  
  
That weekend, Hermione and Angelina went to the Granger's Muggle home, just outside London. Hermione hesitated before knocking. "My parents are lovely, they really are," she'd told Angelina. "But...they're a little...overly friendly, if you know what I mean."  
  
Angelina didn't. But she had nodded. Now, after Hermione knocked, the door burst open. A woman of about forty-something with short, brown hair (beginning to grey a bit) and an expensive-looking twin-set and matching skirt answered the door. She smiled at them. "Hermione! Wonderful to see you, darling!"  
  
"Hello, Mum," Hermione said, embarressed as her mother attacked her check with a kiss. Hermione had to hastily wipe away the red lipstick.  
  
"Oh, and who is your lovely friend?" Mrs. Granger demanded, spotting Angelina.  
  
"This is Angelina Weasley. She's married to Ron's brother Fred."  
  
"Fantastic! Wonderful to meet you!" Mrs. Granger gave Angelina's cheek a kiss, which Angelina wiped away when Mrs. Granger's back was turned.  
  
"Nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Granger."  
  
"Oh, poo!" the older woman cried as she let the young women in. "Make me feel like an old bat! Please, call me Helen." She called up the stairs: "DANIEL! THEY'RE HERE!"  
  
A grey-haired man with a slight potbelly came down the stairs. He wore a button-down shirt and slacks. "Ah, Hermione. You look lovely."  
  
"Hi, Dad," Hermione said, hugging her father. Mr. Granger spotted Angelina and turned to her.  
  
"Wonderful to meet you, you must be Hermione's sister-in-law," he said, shaking her hand. It was clear to Angelina which parent Hermione favored and kept more contact with.  
  
"Well, why don't we all go sit and have tea, hmmmm?" Helen led the way into the sitting room, where a tray of tea and four cups were waiting. They all sat down: Angelina and Hermione on the couch, Mr. and Mrs. Granger on chairs opposite each other on either side of the couch. "Well!" Helen said as she poured the tea, handing Angelina the first cup. "Having you here is a pleasant surprise, dear! I was expecting Ron to come."  
  
"Well..." Hermione cleared her throat. "Ron had some business to attend to."  
  
"Ah." It was clear that her mother didn't believe her but didn't press the issue.  
  
Mr. Granger cleared his throat and helped himself to a biscuit. "Well, the wedding plans! How are they coming along?"  
  
"Great!" Hermione said cheerfully. "Angelina found the perfect place for it, a little abandoned church in the country."  
  
Angelina noticed Helen's skeptical look. "We figure that some decorations and magic would make it perfect." Angelina emphasized the word "magic", and Mrs. Granger squirmed a bit. Then she faked a smile.  
  
"Sounds wonderful, dear."   
  
"Well, now all we have to worry about is who will marry you," Mr. Granger piped in.  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Um...Dad? Ron is going to marry me."  
  
"Don't be silly, darling!" Helen cried with a tinkling little laugh. "He means who will peform the ceremony!"  
  
"Oh." Hermione looked a bit embarrassed.  
  
"And I think I've found the perfect person!" Helen continued. "I've been doing some research on the, urm, magical people in the area, and you'll never guess what I found!" Without a pause, she continued: "In Liverpool, there's a vicar that's a Squibe! And I know for a fact that he performs wedding ceremonies for the wizard community! What do you think, darling?"  
  
Hermione nodded. "That sounds good. Can you book him?"  
  
Helen laughed. "You don't realize who you're talking to, darling!" Helen winked at Angelina, who smiled.  
  
When Hermione and Angelina left the Granger's house, Hermione sighed. "Sorry about that."  
  
"About what? Your parents aren't that bad."  
  
Hermione nodded. "I guess."  
  
"That was good of your mum, to find a vicar that's a Squibe."  
  
"Yeah, now all the wedding preparations are made," Hermione said with a smile. She hugged Angelina when they made it to the end of the Granger's driveway. "Thank you so much for all your help."  
  
"No problem."   
  
"So, do you want to come over?"  
  
Angelina shook her head. "Fred'll be home soon, I better be there to greet him."  
  
"Oh, alright." They said their goodbyes and Apparated to their homes. And even though Hermione still felt bad for Angelina, she couldn't contain her own excitement: she was getting married in a month! 


	9. Confrontation

Part Nine:  
  
Many weekends in May were spent planning the wedding. Helen Granger managed to get the Squibe vicar to marry Hermione and Ron. And then there were other preparations to be made.  
  
Harry, who was busy enough with exams, came out to the Burrow to help. He also went to a Muggle tuxedo shop with Ron and his brothers to rent a tux. He remembered when Dudley bought one for his graduation ball at Smeltings. Uncle Vernon had been against renting one. "Only losers rent tuxedos," he'd barreled.   
  
Well, guess that makes us all losers, Harry thought with a smile. Dudley never wore that expensive tuxedo again, and Harry doubted whether he would ever need one again. So, renting was the way to go.  
  
Even Ron rented his. "Yeah, I'm not gonna spend hundreds on my wedding atire like CERTAIN PEOPLE," he said sarcastically. Hermione, who was within earshot, gave him a dirty look. But she softened when Ron gave her the grin she found so charming.  
  
During this time, Harry was forced to endure more of Ginny's coldness. She wasn't bothering to even pretend to be polite to him anymore: now, she was pointedly spiteful towards him, and everyone could see it. Mrs. Weasley would shoot her daughter a look whenever she acted like a prat, but it did no good. Finally, Harry knew that he had to say something.  
  
One weekend at the Burrow, Ginny was being particulary rude to him, spouting off sarcastic comments right and left. Finally, to put a stop to it, Mrs. Weasley had ordered her to go get lunch started. Ginny seemed glad to get out of Harry's sight, but it didn't make him feel any better.  
  
Pretending to be going to the bathroom, Harry snuck into the kitchen. As he hoped, Ginny was alone. He came in and said, "Um, hi, Ginny."  
  
"Hello," she said icily without looking at him. That's when Harry really lost it.  
  
"Look, I don't know why you're being this way towards me."  
  
"Oh, don't you?" Ginny turned around to face him, a look of fury on her face. "I think you do."  
  
"No, I DON'T."  
  
"Then why don't you take a minute to think about it."  
  
"Look, Ginny, I never did anything to you!" Ginny tutted and turned away, but Harry wasn't through with her. "I thought that we were okay with what happened last summer. That's not what this is about, is it?"  
  
"I think you know what this is about."  
  
"I DON'T!"  
  
Ginny threw down the spoon she'd been using to stir the soup on the stove and turned around to face him again. "Fine, then, I'll tell you. This is about you being a pathetic little prat! Are you happy now?"  
  
"Oh, yes, Ginny," Harry said sarcastically. "That really explains everything! And how, pray tell, was I a "pathetic little prat"! And DON'T say I know, I already told you that I don't."  
  
Ginny lost some of her fury, but she still spoke angrily. "I thought we had an agreement not to tell anyone about...you know, what happened."  
  
"We did. And I kept my part of it."  
  
"Oh, did you?" Ginny gave him a mean, raised-eyebrow look. "Well, then, how did everyone I work with find out?" Ginny had been working as an assistant at the "Daily Prophet".  
  
Harry was surprised. "I didn't tell anyone, I already told you that."  
  
"You didn't?" Ginny looked confused, then her face filled with a sudden understanding. "I'M GOING TO KILL LUNA!"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"She's the only person I told, remember? That's the only way anyone could've found out." Ginny suddenly looked horror-struck. "Unless somebody SAW us?"  
  
"Have people been giving you trouble about it?"  
  
Ginny shrugged. "A bit, I suppose." She sighed. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have accused you of that. I should've known that you would keep your promise." Ginny muttered, "Unlike some big-mouthed people..." She looked remorseful again. "Can you forgive me, Harry?"  
  
Harry wasn't sure what to say. She'd gone from being completely rude to him, to begging for his forgiveness. "Um...yeah. I forgive you, no problem."  
  
"Oh, Harry!" Ginny threw her arms around him and hugged him. "Thank you. You're the best friend." Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny's waist in a hug. He closed his eyes and pulled her close. He liked having Ginny in his arms. Suddenly, Ginny pulled away, looking slightly flushed. "So! The big wedding is coming up? Isn't it exciting?"  
  
"Yeah, it is."  
  
"Percy and Charlie both had really nice weddings, but I think that Ron and Hermione's is going to blow theirs out of the water." Ginny smiled and turned back to her work, blushing slightly. "Well...see you later."  
  
"'Bye." Harry turned around and walked out of the kitchen. When he reached the doorway, he turned around to look at Ginny, and was surprised to find her watching him. She gave him a nervous laugh and turned around quickly.  
  
And Harry began to get that weird feeling again... 


	10. The BachelorBachelorette Parties

Part Ten:  
  
The night before the wedding, Ron was hanging out at Fred's home. His brothers, Harry, Dean Thompson, Seamus Finnigan, and Neville Longbottom were there, too. Meanwhile, Hermione was hanging out with her friends.  
  
Ron had been very calm about the wedding that whole month, comforting Hermione when she was nervous. But now, he couldn't hide his feelings anymore as he and his friends knocked back shots of fire whiskey. "I'm just scared that I'll mess up," he confided in them. "I mean, vows and everything..."  
  
"See?" Fred said triumphantly. "This is exactly why Angelina and I decided not to have a wedding. Too much pressure, you know."  
  
"You're really helping, Fred," Bill said sarcasticly. To his brother: "Look, you'll do fine. You've been practicing your vows, right?"  
  
Ron snorted. "Yeah, but only because Hermione would freak out if I didn't."  
  
"Hermione? Freak out? No way!" It was Harry's turn to be sarcastic. Everyone laughed: most of them had felt Hermione's wrath before. In fact, the only one not laughing was George. He actually looked anxious: he kept checking his watch. Finally, Ron noticed.  
  
"Um, George, what're you waiting for?"  
  
"She's late."  
  
Everyone stared at him, and Fred spoke. In a stern tone, he asked, "Who's late?"  
  
"The stripper."  
  
The rest of them gaped at him. "Um...stripper?"  
  
"Yes. This is a bachelor party, isn't it?"  
  
Everyone looked at each other. Finally, Ron grinned. "Yeah, it is. Thanks, George."  
  
"RON!" Percy gasped. "You're getting married tomorrow!"  
  
"That's exactly the point, ol' Perce," George said cheerfully. "He's getting married TOMORROW. He's not married right now, is he?"  
  
"Come on, Percy," Charlie said gentely, "It's just a stripper. It's not like George hired a prostitute." He gave George a look. "Um...you didn't, did you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh, okay." Charlie looked relieved.   
  
"Hey, where did you order the stripper from?" Dean suddenly asked. Everyone shot him a strange look. "Um...well, is it a Muggle, or-"  
  
"No, a witch."  
  
Neville looked skeptical. "They HAVE witch stirppers?"  
  
"Apparently so," George said with a shrug. He checked his watch again. "But she's fifteen minutes late. If she's not here by 9:30, her tip is-"  
  
BZZZZZZZZZZ.  
  
"That's the doorbell," George said triumphantly. He turned to Ron. "Go get it."  
  
"Um..." Ron looked at Harry. "Come with me."  
  
"Yeah, hold his hand, Harry," Seamus said, and they all laughed. But Harry followed his best friend to the front hall.   
  
"Ready?" Ron asked nervously.   
  
"Ron, it's no big deal." With that, Harry reached over Ron and opened the front door. And gasped.  
  
Standing at the door, wearing a cloak over skimpy clothes, was Pansy Parkinson.  
  
"Pansy?"  
  
"Hi," she said, pushing past them. "Bachelor party?"  
  
"Urm, yeah," Ron said nervously. "Me."  
  
"Congrats," she said. She didn't sound sincere...she didn't even look at them. "Well, where to?"  
  
"Um...just up those stairs," Ron said, pointing. Pansy shot up the stairs, leaving a stunned Ron and Harry in the front all. "She's-"  
  
"Last I heard, she was married to Malfoy," Harry said, sounding just as shocked as Ron. "Didn't they marry just after school got out?"  
  
"That's what I thought," Ron said. "Maybe they got divorsed?"  
  
Finally, they made their way up the stairs after Pansy. When they saw Seamus, Dean, and Neville, they looked just as surprised as they were at the sight of Pansy. But none of Ron's brothers seemed to notice.  
  
They found out from Neville, whose grandmother had been a big gossip, that Pansy and Malfoy had, indeed, divorsed. "It happened just before my grandmother died," Neville said. "I think she was even talking about it on her death bed." He rolled his eyes: they all knew that Neville hadn't been fond of his formidable, snobby grandmother.  
  
It seemed that Ron's brothers got the most out of the stripper. And Percy, who'd objected to her most heavily, was having the most fun: full of whiskey, he was dancing with the mostly-naked Pansy on top of the coffee table. Ron was too shocked at the sight of an old classmate to enjoy it too much, even when Pansy gave him a personal lapdance. And Harry found that, through it all, he was STILL thinking about Ginny.  
  
Since their fight and makeup in the kitchen at the Burrow, Harry had been distracted. And he came to the realization that he liked Ginny. Not just because they'd had sex, either (he didn't remember it), but...he was so sure WHY he liked her. He knew that she used to fancy him in school, but now...he hoped that she still did.  
  
And as the bachelor party began to break up around midnight, Harry decided to go see her.  
  
***********************  
  
At nine o'clock, Hermione stood in front of the full-length mirror in her room at the Burrow. She was wearing her wedding dress again, and she just couldn't get enough. I'm getting married tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow...  
  
Suddenly, she heard the door to her room open. "Um...whose there?" In the doorway stood her future sister-in-law Ginny, who rolled her eyes at catching Hermione in her wedding dress AGAIN.  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake, Hermione," Ginny said, "can't you put that away until tomorrow?"  
  
"I can't help it," Hermione gushed. She looked at her reflection again. "I'm just so excited!"  
  
"Well, can you take that thing off and change into some normal clothes?" Ginny asked impatiently. "We want to take you out!"  
  
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Whose "we"?"  
  
"Me, Angelina, Ella, Lavender, Parvati, and Luna." Hermione noticed that Ginny's voice was a little harder when she said "Luna". She must still be pissed off at her, Hermione concluded. But why?  
  
"Where are we going?"  
  
Ginny crossed her arms. "It's a surprised."  
  
Hermione sighed. "Fine, fine. Tell them I'll be ready in a minute."  
  
Hermione changed into her Muggle clothes and went downstairs to find the crowd of women waiting for her. "It's the bride-to-be!" Ella, who was a lot older then the rest of the party, gushed.  
  
"Come on," Angelina said, taking her hand. "We're taking you out."  
  
Hermione knew better then to ask where as Angelina pulled her out of the Burrow. The rest of the party followed. Angelina stuck out her wand and with a BANG, the Knight Bus appeared. "All aboard!" Angelina called.  
  
As they sat on the bus (headed for London), Hermione stared out of the window at the changing scenes. Though she was on her way to some mysterious destination, she still had tomorrow on her mind. That is, until they pulled up to the stop in London. The small building had flashing neon lights, and CHIP AND DALES DANCERS was written in pink. "Wait a second-"  
  
"Come on!" Angelina pulled Hermione off the bus in the same fashion that she'd pulled her on.   
  
"This is a Muggle stripeclub!"  
  
Parvati (who was married), giggled. Lavender grinned. "Come on, honey, we all know that Muggle strippers are better then wizard ones."  
  
"Yeah, too many explosions and bullshit," Ginny agreed. Hermione was shocked: how did Ginny know that?  
  
"Let's go-"  
  
"WAIT!" Hermione pulled away from Angelina's grasp and looked at them all. "How can we do this, you guys?"   
  
"Um..." Ella gave her future sister-in-law a strange look. "Well, we can just go in through the entrance-"  
  
"No, that's not what I mean!" Hermione sighed. "Look, I'm getting married tomorrow. Ella, you're married already! And so are Angelina and Parvati."  
  
"Oh, okay," Lavender said. She turned to Ginny and Luna. "Come on, girls, lets have all the fun."  
  
"Lighten up, Hermione," Angelina said. "I mean, what do you think Ron's doing right now?"  
  
"Having drinks with the guys, I guess..." The rest of the girls exchanged knowing glances, and Hermione knew the truth: a bachelor party.  
  
"Come on, honey," Parvati said gentely. "This can be your bachelorette party!"  
  
Hermione sighed. She wouldn't win this battle. Besides, she figures, it's just dancers, how bad could dancers be?  
  
She soon found out as the "dancers" revealed more then Hermione wanted to see. She gaped at the stage as Angelina climbed up and joined in. Well, at least she's happy, Hermione told herself as she went to get another drink (it helped take her mind off what was going on). She still felt bad for Angelina after she'd lost her baby. And if dancing around with male strippers made her feel better, then Hermione was all for it.  
  
After she'd had about ten drinks (more then she'd drank in her life), Hermione was ready to go home. So was Ginny, who'd drank just as much. So all the women left the club and went back to the Burrow. "We'll have to sneak in, Mum'll be pissed if she sees us," Ginny said. For some reason, Hermione found this very funny: she laughed very loudly, and a laughing Angelina tried to shush her.  
  
Hermione feel into bed that night, falling asleep right away. The next morning, the day of her wedding, she was hung over.  
  
But Ginny had bigger problems. 


	11. Gone

Part Eleven:  
  
The next morning, Ginny woke up with a pounding headache. Well, ten shots of firewhiskey'll do that to you, she told herself. She wondered vaguely how Hermione must be feeling...then remembered that the wedding was today. She rolled over.  
  
And screamed.  
  
Because lying beside her was a sleeping Harry Potter.  
  
But he wasn't asleep for long. The scream woke him with a jerk. "What the-" he stared at Ginny, who was now sitting up. "Oh, shit."   
  
"What the hell happened?" Ginny demanded, sitting up. Harry groaned and closed his eyes.  
  
"I think we-"  
  
"Oh, hell! Not again!" Ginny closed her eyes and leaned against the headboard of her bed. "Goddammit."  
  
Not this again, Harry thought as he sat up beside her. "I sorta remember what happened-"  
  
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, me, too. Not like last time."  
  
"Was I...good?"  
  
Ginny gave him a disgusted look. "Harry, that isn't the point."  
  
"Oh, sorry."  
  
Ginny looked at him again, and actually smiled a little. "Well...yeah. It was. Good, I mean." She swallowed. "Um, what about me?"  
  
Harry gave her an akward grin. "Yeah, you were."  
  
"Ginny!" To their horror, Mrs. Weasley was at the door. She opened it without knocking. "Sweetheart, it's time to get up for-" Mrs. Weasley stopped short when she saw the two of them in bed together. "Oh, sorry," she said hastily, backing out. Ginny closed her eyes and banged her head against the headboard.  
  
"Shit!"   
  
Suddenly, Harry felt annoyed. "Look, Ginny, I don't see why it's a big deal-"  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
Ignoring her outrage, Harry stood up out of bed. He quickly relized that he needed to cover himself up. "I'm tired of you making such a big deal about this. Yes, we had a drunken little fling last summer. And, last night," he added hastily. "But, you know what?" Now he didn't know what to say.  
  
"No, WHAT, Harry?"  
  
"Nothing," he mumbled. He grabbed his clothes and hastily threw his pants on. "See you at the wedding." With that, he dashed out of the room, leaving Ginny alone.  
  
Meanwhile, Hermione had woken up in her head. She wasn't alone: she had her own pounding headache. "Oh, God," she groaned as she sat up, grabbing her head in pain. Then she remembered: her wedding day! She was out of bed in a shot.  
  
After putting on her robe, she went downstairs. She knew a good hangover potion: she'd made it plenty of times for Ron. But never for herself. The one night that I choose to get really drunk, and it had to be the night before my wedding, she scolded herself. Good job, smart one.  
  
To her disapointment, the kitchen wasn't empty: Mrs. Weasley was making breakfast, and Percy and his daughters were already at the table. She said good morning to them all, and grabbed a cauldron out of the cupboard. Mrs. Weasley gave her a curious look. "What are you making, dear?"  
  
"Oh, just a nerves potion," Hermione said with an embarressed laugh. "You know..."  
  
"Oh, leave that to me, dear," Mrs. Weasley said with the wave of her hand. "My mother made me a nervousness potion on my wedding day, but obviously your own mother can't so..." Mrs. Weasley cut off: it was her turn to be embarressed.  
  
Hermione was touched, but she knew she had to lie again. "Oh, no, I'd really like to do it myself." When a hurt look crossed Mrs. Weasley's face, Hermione added, "Well, just making it myself might calm my nerves. Maybe I could give it to Ron or something."  
  
"Oh." Mrs. Weasley nodded and got back to the breakfast. "Well, any ingrediants you need are in the cupboard over there." She pointed without looking up from her pan.  
  
On the other side of the room, Hermione set up the cauldron over a blue magic fire. She gathered up the ingrediants she needed and got to work. At one point, Percy came over to her while his daughters ate breakfast. "Moon stone? Powdered goat horns? Hermione," Percy said, examining more of the ingrediants, "are you making a hangover potion?"  
  
"Shut uuuuuuuup," Hermione hissed. She gestured to Mrs. Weasley who had her back turned to them. Percy tsked disapprovingly and went back to the table. Yeah, fuck you, Percy, Hermione thought bitterly as she prepared the rest of her potion. After it was cooled, Hermione gulped down a goblet-full. Just then, Ginny came downstairs. "Pssst! Ginny!" she called as silently as she could. Ginny looked over at Hermione, who pointed to the cauldron. "Hangover potion!" she mouthed.  
  
Ginny went over to her, and Hermione handed her a goblet-full. "Thought you might need it."  
  
"Thanks." Ginny guzzled it down and thrust the goblet back at Hermione. She looked distracted.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
Ginny looked around the kitchen. It was starting to fill up: in fact, the only people missing where Ron and Harry. "Can I tell you something? In private?"  
  
"Sure." They went into the living room and huddled in the corner. Hermione gave Ginny an inquiring look. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I never told you this, but...Harry and I had sex last summer."  
  
"Oh." Hermione didn't know why this was relavant to this day, HER wedding day. "Okay..."  
  
"That's not all," Ginny said hastily. "We, um, had sex again last night."  
  
Hermione blinked. "Wait," she said slowly. "You and Harry have had sex...twice?"  
  
"Yeah. We were drunk both times, of course," Ginny said quickly. "But, you see...we both remembered what happened this time. And...we liked it. At least, he said he did," she added quickly. "And the thing is...I think I still really fancy him."  
  
"Wha-"  
  
"I know I told you that I was over him years ago," Ginny said with a small smile. "But I never was, you see-"  
  
"Ginny," Hermione said sharply. "This is my WEDDING day. I have to worry about that first." She saw the look on Ginny's face. "Sorry," she added. "The hangover potion has worked yet."  
  
"Hermione! Hermione!" Ginny and Hermione stood up quickly as Fred came dashing into the living room. "There you are," he said, but he still had a worried look on his face. "I'm really sorry, but...Ron is gone."  
  
It was lucky that Ginny was there to catch her as Hermione fell to the ground. 


	12. Fear

Part Twelve:  
  
By the time Hermione was revived, everyone at the Burrow was freaking out. There was no sign of Ron, and he hadn't left a note. Nobody had any idea where he could be.  
  
Except Harry.  
  
While everyone was busy, Harry Apparated to Hogsmeade. For some weird reason, he had some idea that his best friend was hiding out at the village's least popular, seediest pub.  
  
The Hog's Head.  
  
And he was right. When Harry's eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the pub, he could see only a few people in there. It was, after all, a Saturday morning. And at the bar, hunched over and nursing a glass of red currant rum. He didn't look up until Harry was right behind him. But instead of looking surprised, Ron just sighed. "I can't do it, man."  
  
"What're you talking about?" Harry sat down next to him. The bartender ignored him, but he didn't want a drink, anyway: he'd had enough the night before.  
  
"I can't do this. I can't marry her."  
  
"It was your idea," Harry pointed out.  
  
"I know, I know," Ron took a long drink and sighed again. "But I had no idea what I was getting myself into."  
  
Harry sighed. He had to be the voice of reason here, he knew that. "You're getting yourself into a lifetime of love and happiness," he said. He knew it sounded hookey, but Ron actually smiled a little.  
  
"But I can't expect her to make all the money."  
  
"Huh?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "What the hell does money have to do with anything?"  
  
"Everything, Harry," Ron said impatiently. "I grew up poor, so I know what I'm talking about."  
  
"But you and Hermione do okay," Harry argued. "She's a Healer, and you-"  
  
"That's EXACTLY the point!" Ron exclaimed. "She's the one who makes more money! I'm supposed to be the husband, and she makes more then twice what I do."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes. "What does that matter?"  
  
"I've seen my mother stay at home all my life," Ron explained as calmly as he could. "She'd cook the meals, clean the house, raise the kids...not have to worry about saving lives everyday!"  
  
"You know Hermione respects your mum," Harry cut in, "but if she heard what you were saying, she'd slap you."  
  
"But-"  
  
"You know how Hermione is," Harry pressed on. "Do you think all that other stuff matters to her? She's happy with her job, and you're happy with yours, and you're happy together. Isn't that what matters?"  
  
"Look," Ron said, "I've seen Fred and Angelina. She works, and that got in the way of family."  
  
"So you want a family?" Harry said. "Well, Hermione wants one, too! But it's your WEDDING day, not the day to worry about kids yet."  
  
"I don't know, Harry," Ron said slowly. "I wish we'd talked about this before."  
  
"You don't have to plan everything," Harry said. "Sometimes things just...happen."  
  
"Like you and Ginny?"  
  
Harry blinked and stared at his friend. Ron smiled. "Come on, Harry. Everyone knows what happened last summer."  
  
"And last night?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Yeah, um..." Harry paused. "I'll tell you everything if you promise to come back with me."  
  
"Asshole." But Ron was smiling. He stood up and threw a galleon on the table for the bartender. "Fine. Okay. Whatever."  
  
"You can be a little more excited, you know." They headed out of the pub.  
  
"Yeah," Ron said. He stood in the middle of the street and screamed: "IT'S MY WEDDING DAY!"  
  
"SHUT UP!" an old witch called from her upstairs window. Laughing, Harry and Ron Apparated back to the Burrow.  
  
*************  
  
They arrived in the room full of Weasley's and Hermione at the Burrow. Everyone started chattering with relief when they saw Ron. Hermione got to him. "Oh, Ron!" she cried. Everyone expected her to throw her arms around his neck and hug him.  
  
SMACK! Everyone gasped as she slapped him hard in the face. "Ronald Weasley, it is our WEDDING day! Don't you EVER run off like that again, do you hear me?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron said, still grinning in spite of the red hand print on his cheek. He put his arms around her waist and kissed her softly. One by one, the Weasleys and Harry piled out. "I'm sorry," he whispered when they'd pulled away. "I'm so, so sorry."  
  
"Why did you go?" Hermione whispered. Her voice was breathy, she was panting slightly after her outrage and the kissing.  
  
"I was scared."  
  
"Don't be," Hermione said with a smile. "Everything'll be okay. No matter what."  
  
"I know that now," Ron admitted. Looking into her eyes made everything feel okay.  
  
"Come on," she said softly. "We have to get ready for our wedding." Ron watched as his fiancee walked out of the room. And he realized: she'll be my wife today. 


	13. Losing You

Part Thirteen:  
  
Everybody at the Burrow Apparated to the small church. There, they met up with Charlie and his family...and were soon joined by the Muggles in Hermione's family.  
  
"Where is the vicar!" Helen Granger fretted as the party went into their separate rooms to get ready.   
  
"Mum, will you relax?" Hermione demanded. She herself was only beginning to calm down after the incident that morning. "The wedding isn't for two hours, there's nothing to worry about."  
  
Mrs. Weasley, Mrs. Granger, Mrs. O'Neil (Hermione's aunt), Rebecca (her cousin), and all the Weasley women went into one of the small church's upper rooms. There, they got themselves ready and helped Hermione. Mrs. Weasley had warned them all about using too much magic. "We don't want to alienate the Muggles," she'd said earlier.  
  
But Hermione's Aunt Shannon WANTED them to use magic. "Come on, girls, pull out your wands!" she trilled in an Irish accent. "We have to get moving if this wedding is going to happen in two hours!" So, reluctantly, Ginny and Angelica began putting strong spells on Hermione's hair. In five minutes, she had a complicated, twisty updo that looked great.  
  
"Ow! It hurts!" she cried, putting a hand on her tightly-wound hair.  
  
"Now, now, darling, beauty is pain," Mrs. Granger said, patting her daughter on the shoulder. Hermione winced in pain and annoyance.  
  
Meanwhile, the men were in another room in the church, putting on their tuxedos. The crowded room was strangly quiet: the only people talking were Mr. Weasley and Hermione's Uncle Joseph. "Now, what sort of Muggle things have they in Ireland?" he asked as they put on their pants.  
  
"Um..." The poor man didn't seem too comfortable talking about "Muggle things" with a wizard while putting on his trousers.   
  
Ron sat on an old chair by the window, staring into space. The events of the morning flew through his brain. He still felt guilty about being such a coward...but Hermione's words ran through his head. Everything would be okay...  
  
"Hey." Harry sat down in the chair next to Ron's. Ron smiled at his best friend, in his tuxedo.  
  
"Never thought I'd see you in one of those, mate."  
  
Harry winced, his face almost like Hermione's was in the next room. "Never again. You're the only person I'd do this for."  
  
"Hey, you aren't doing this for me," Ron said with a smile. "If it were up to me, we'd all be wearing robes...or plain Muggle clothing, at least."  
  
"Oh," Harry said. "Well, Hermione is the only other person I would do this for."  
  
"What about Ginny?"  
  
Harry's smile faded, but he tried to cover it up. "No, I wouldn't even do this for Ginny."  
  
"No, I mean...what happened with you two last night?"  
  
Harry sighed, and got into the story: how he'd been thinking about her at the bachelor party, how he'd gone back to the Burrow and found her in her bedroom, how they'd talked, and one thing led to another...  
  
"I really care about her, Ron," Harry said. "I do. But I think she hates me now." He felt his heart sink at these words.  
  
Ron shook his head. "Give Ginny time, mate. She's weird about these kind of things. Just...she'll come around."  
  
"I dunno..."  
  
There was a sudden knocking at the door. "Everyone got their britches on?" Charlie asked, and then he opened the door. A very startled-looking Mrs. Granger stood there.   
  
"This is an emergency!" she cried.   
  
"What IS it, Helen?" Hermione's dad demanded impatiently.  
  
"Well, it's not an emergency, really, Daniel," Helen said sarcasticly. "If it's alright that the vicar has shown up."  
  
"Oh, NO! Not the VICAR!" Mr. O'Neil teased.  
  
"Joseph...he's dressed head-to-toe in ROSE PINK ROBES."  
  
There was a silence in the room. Everyone looked at each other. Ron's eyes were wide with confusion and surprise. Suddenly, Bill broke the silence:  
  
"Oh, he's gay."  
  
The silence that followed this statement was followed by peals of laughter. Mrs. Granger didn't look amused.  
  
"My daughter is not being married by a man wearing pink robes!"  
  
"Helen, why does it matter?"   
  
Mrs. Granger glared at her husband. Then she spotted Ron. "Ron, dear, you don't want to be married by a man in pink robes, do you?"  
  
Ron found his voice. "Um...does Hermione mind?"  
  
"Well..." Helen faltered.  
  
"If she doesn't mind, then I don't," Ron said with a shrug.  
  
"But-"  
  
"GoodBYE, Helen," Mr. Granger said quickly, slamming the door in his wife's face. The laughter filled the room again.  
  
"This is EXACTLY why we got eloped," Fred said, rolling his eyes.  
  
At one o'clock, the wedding was scedualed to start. Hermione's head was pounding, but it didn't hurt as much: Mrs. Weasley had given her a goblet of pain potion that she'd quickly made. Mrs. Granger had insisted on giving her daughter some asprin, but Mrs. Weasley had insisted. "This stuff will take the pain away with the drowsiness," she promised.  
  
"Oh...alright, then."  
  
Hermione felt a little bad for her mother. She knew that the older woman had always been excited about planning her daughter's wedding. This hadn't been what Helen was expected: magic, and Squib vicars in pink robes? Definatly not her idea of perfection. But Hermione was too excited to dwell on her mother's feelings much. She did her wedding her way, Hermione thought. And this is the way I want MINE to be.  
  
She stood in front of the full-length mirror in the small room as the others went to greet the guests. She thought she was alone, until she saw her mother standing behind her. Hermione turned around, and Helen's eyes filled with tears.  
  
"You look so beautiful!"  
  
"Thanks, Mum."  
  
"I'd hug you, but I wouldn't want to wrinkle your dress."  
  
"Don't worry: I know a good spell for wrinkle-removal." But Hermione saw the effect that those words, so casual in her world, had on her mother. "Are you okay?"  
  
"What? Oh, yes, darling!" Mrs. Granger gushed. "It's your wedding day! I couldn't be any better!"  
  
"No...something's wrong." Hermione knew her mother too well.  
  
"Well, you know, dear...I wasn't expecting the vicar to come looking like THAT. That's exactly the reason we don't have Tarts and Vicars parties anymore: the vicars have all turned into tarts!" Mrs. Granger laughed at her own joke, and Hermione smiled half-heartedly.  
  
"Are you sure that's it?"  
  
Mrs. Granger's smile faded and she sighed. "Darling, I'm so happy that you're in love. Ron is a very good boy."  
  
"But...?"  
  
"But nothing, dear," Mrs. Granger went on. "It's just...and please, don't take this wrong, darling, you know I love you more then anything-"  
  
"What IS it, Mum?"  
  
"It's just..." Mrs. Granger's eyes filled with tears again. "I feel like I'm really losing you now."  
  
"Mum, don't be silly!" Hermione cried with a small laugh. "You're not losing me! I'll call on you all the time!"  
  
"It's not that, dear," Helen went on. She sighed again. "I felt this way when you went off to Hogwarts for the first time. We split apart. Our worlds are so...different."  
  
Hermione finally understood: it was the magical-Muggle thing again. "Mum, you're not losing me."  
  
"The magical world is your world," Mrs. Granger went on sadly. "All my grandchildren will be magical. They won't be able to relate to their Nana Granger."  
  
"Mum..."  
  
Helen let out a sob. Hermione felt so helpless: her mother had never told her this before. There was only one thing she could do: put her arms around her mother and hug her.  
  
"Oh, darling!" Helen sobbed with a small laugh. "Look at me! I'm bringing you down on your wedding day! I'm sorry."  
  
"It's okay, Mum."  
  
"No, no," Helen pulled away. She was going back to normal, but there were still tears in her eyes. "Forget everything I said, I'm just a mother watching her little girl take the biggest step of her life."   
  
There was a knock on the door, and Ginny stuck her head in. "Hermione? The guests are all here, are we going to do this?"  
  
Hermione gave her mother one last look, then turned and looked at her reflection. No matter what her mother said now, she'd never forget what she'd just heard. She looked back at Ginny. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready." She followed Ginny out of the room, leaving her mother behind. 


	14. Man and Wife

Part Fourteen:  
  
The small church was crowded with guests. Harry stuck his head in from the vestibule and saw the dozens of guests, all settled in their seats. The hired organist was taking her seat.   
  
Harry checked his watch. 1:09. Not too late, but they needed to get started. He turned around...and found Ginny looking at him. She blushed when he caught her eye. "Oh...hi."  
  
"Hello," he said nervously. He remembered what Ron had said: Give her time, she'd come around. But Harry didn't WANT to give her time. He wanted to talk, NOW. "Listen, Ginny, about last night..."  
  
The organist suddenly began playing. That was the signal for Polly, Percy's daughter, to start down the aisle. The adults gushed over the cute little flower girl as she made her way to the front of the church. Harry turned to Ginny, and said, "Well...?  
  
"Shhh!" Ginny hissed. "We have to go!" With that, she linked her arm in his, and they headed down the aisle. They were followed by Fred and Angelina, and George and Rebecca (whom he'd been flirting with mercilessly in the vestibule). After the three couples were down the aisle, everyone turned to look to the door. The organist changed the music to the Wedding March.  
  
And there appeared Hermione, on the arm of her father. She looked more beautiful then any of them had ever seen her, so beautiful that Harry actually felt tears fill his eyes. He glanced over at Ron, who was standing at his side. He was staring down the aisle at his bride. Harry could hear the sobs of Mrs. Granger as Mr. Granger gave Hermione to Ron.  
  
"Dearly beloved," the pink-robed vicar began, "We are gathered here today, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. If anyone here has a reason that these two should not be joined, speak now or forever hold your peace."  
  
Hermione held back tears. A long silence followed the vicar's words, much to Hermione's relief: she had a feeling that her mother would jump up and start screaming. But there was a wonderful silence, and the vicar continued.  
  
She was in a daze as the ceremony went on. She looked at Ron, who grinned at her. God, I love him, she thought. I'm going to spent the rest of my life with this man. Everything is going to be perfect. The events of the morning had left her mind completely, and what her mother had said just minutes ago had left her. All she could see was Ron, it was just her and her lover, in this all-too-perfect moment.  
  
Hermione recited her vows, as she used to practice them years ago in front of the mirror. Little girlish dreams had led to this. Ron, of course, akwardly stuttered through his, making Hermione love him even more. Her cousin Rebecca's son Donald gave them their rings, and they said some more things that Hermione didn't think mattered. She was in a happy daze.  
  
"I now pernounce you man and wife; you may kiss the bride." Up went the veil over Hermione's head. Ron grabbed her face and kissed her passionately as the on-lookers cheered happily. Hermione felt happy tears squeeze out of her closed eyes. When the kiss was over, Ron whispered, "I love you, Mrs. Weasley."  
  
"I love you, too, Mr. Weasley." With that, they linked arms and ran down the aisle, as the guests threw rice. When they reached the outside of the church, they looked back. The guests were piling out to wave good-bye. Hermione and Ron waved, and, holding hands, Apparated to the Burrow.  
  
Harry, who was standing at the door of the church with tears in his eyes, looked next to him...and nearly jumped to find Ginny by him again. She, too, had tears in her eyes. "I can't believe they're married," she gushed happily.  
  
"I know," Harry agreed, relieved that, for the moment at least, Ginny didn't hate him. But then she smiled. And, in spite of her loudly-colored hair, it was the brightest part of her.   
  
"Come on," she said, taking his hand in the same way Hermione had just taken Ron's. "We have a reception to attend." And with that, they disapeared together with a loud BANG.   
  
***********  
  
A/N: it's not over yet! One chapter to go, at least. I'll try to update sooner this time. 


	15. The Endor is it?

Part Fifteen:  
  
As soon as Mrs. Weasley Apparated to The Burrow, she was in a rush to get the reception prepared. Before she knew it, all the guests had arrived, even the Muggles. Mr. Weasley had politely accompanied Hermione's relatives by Muggle transportation to the Burrow, and everyone was settling down for the post-wedding supper.  
  
Hermione and Ron took their seats at the end of the long table in the garden, Harry at their side. Next to him, to Harry's delight, sat Ginny. All the other guests took seats at the huge table. The garden knomes, that Ron's brothers had spent the morning getting rid of, had snuck back into the garden. Mr. Weasley was throwing scrapes at them until Mrs. Weasley scolded him. "Arthur, it's no wonder that they keep coming back! For once, can you PLEASE not treat them like pets?"  
  
After the feast of turkies, chickens and hams with wonderful side dishes, everyone agreed that Mrs. Weasley's cooking was matched only by the Hogwarts house elves, and she was beaming with almost as much pleasure as the bride and groom. The dishes were cleared away, and everyone began talking, laughing, and drinking champage and firewhiskey (the ones still suffering from a hangover from the night before refused the latter). At one point, some music began playing, and Hermione and Ron had their first dance as husband and wife (though they were both only doing it for their parents: they weren't too fond of dancing themselves). After that, everyone was dancing and talking and congratulating the new couple.  
  
Hermione and Ron were standing by the table, talking to Fred and Angelina, when someone said, "Well, well, I should've known: Weasley and Granger, married." The newly weds turned to see who'd spoken. To their utter horror, it was Professor Snape. Hermione pretended to be happy to see him, letting him graciously (but coldly, of course) kiss her hand. But Ron couldn't hold back the hostility he still felt for the most hated teacher at Hogwarts. "What're you doing here?" he demanded harshly, getting a swift poke in the ribs from Hermione's elbow.  
  
"Why, he came as my guest." Appearing behind Professor Snape, with a blond-hair Tonks hanging on his arm, was Professor Lupin. He kissed Hermione's cheek and shook Ron's hand. "Congratulations. Though Severus is right: no one is really surprised about this."  
  
"Congratulations!" Tonks threw her arms around Hermione in a tight, sisterly hug, then gave Ron a tight hug that nearly broke his spine. Then she turned back to Lupin. "Come on, Remus! Let's dance!"  
  
"Oh, I suppose..." the older man said, looking helplessly at the rest of them as he allowed Tonks to drag him to the part of the garden set aside for dancers.  
  
Ron looked back at Professor Snape. Oh, what the hell, he thought. Bygones be bygones and all that happy bullshit. He offered his hand to Snape for a shake. He was sure that Snape saw the gesture, but he didn't take Ron's hand. With one last cold congratulations, Snape went off by himself, leaving Ron to mutter, "Basturd."  
  
"Ron!" Hermione hissed, though none-too-harshly. She'd never been fond of the greasy old man herself.  
  
"He's just jealous that he never got married," Ron said with a spiteful grin. "Greasy old git, nobody want him."  
  
"Enough," Hermione scolded gentely, holding back a smile. "It's our wedding day, no bad karma."  
  
"Karma?" Ron grinned. "Our children are going to be Muslim, eh?"  
  
Hermione smiled. "It's the Hindu that believe in karma," she said in her miss-know-it-all voice. "Or maybe the Buddists, but definatly not-" The rest of what she said was cut off as Ron kissed her.  
  
"Darling?" he whispered. "The one thing I don't like about you is that you're a smartass. So kindly shut up."  
  
"I'll correct you if I please," she replied, smiling sexily. They were about to kiss again when Mrs. Weasley announced that it was time to cut the cake.  
  
Meanwhile, Harry couldn't find Ginny anywhere. He'd wanted to ask her to dance, to make up for the balls at school that he'd never taken her to...and regretted. But he couldn't find her. He danced a little with Lavender Brown, Parvati and Padma Patil, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and even once with Mrs. Granger, though she'd kept trying to flatten his hair. "Honestly, you'd be a very handsome young man if you could control that hair of yours. Who knows, maybe this would be YOUR wedding day instead of Ron's. But I love Ronnie to death, I really do..." Harry couldn't take much more of that, and spent more time hiding from Hermione's mother then he did looking for Ginny.  
  
When Mrs. Weasley announced the cutting of the cake, Harry gathered around the table. Hermione and Ron, in traditional Muggle wedding style, cut the cake and fed each other a piece. Then everyone dug in. Just as Harry was grabbing a plate with a slice on it, a hand cut him off on the way to it. Harry looked to see Ginny, who smiled at him. "Hi," she said. "Do you want...?" She held up the piece of cake.  
  
"Oh...no, take it. I'll get another." They got their cakes and went off together to eat them. "I've been looking for you," Harry admitted. He wished he hadn't, until she smiled at him.  
  
"Oh, sorry," she said with a sheepish smile. "I was talking to Professor McGonagall."  
  
"Oh." What business did Ginny have with his boss. Well, she HAD been the head of her house, too... "What about?"  
  
Ginny smiled. "I'm thinking about taking a job there."  
  
Harry gaped at her. "But...there aren't any open positions...are there?" He remembered, with a sudden rush of terror, what Snape had said at the last staff meeting: "Last one hired, first one fired." But he shook it off quickly: he'd done nothing to deserve termination.  
  
Ginny grinned at the worried look on his face. "I'm not teaching...yet. I was talking to McGonagall, and she was mentioning that Professor Sinistra needed an assistant."   
  
Harry couldn't argue that. The Astronomy teacher was becoming more careless by the month. But she stubbornly refused to retire this year. "I've got a few more left in me!" she said in a dignified tone at the last meeting. Yes, a teaching assistant would be the perfect thing for her. But...  
  
"What about your job? At the "Daily Prophet"?"  
  
She snorted. "Yeah, whatever."  
  
"I thought that you wanted to be a reporter?"  
  
Ginny sighed. "I'm no closer to be a fucking reporter then I was when I took the stupid job. And besides, all those "superiors", so high and mighty, are so fake. I'd rather die then be like them." She looked up at the evening sky, where the first stars had begun to appear. "Besides, Astronomy was always my favorite class. I even got my N.E.W.Ts for it, just for fun. I'd love to take over the class one day, when old Spinistra gives it up." She looked at Harry again, and he recognized the look in her eyes. She'd worn it the night before, before they'd made love on her bed. And she may have been wearing it during their first time together, if he remembered. "And, I'll be closer to you."  
  
Harry leaned in, ready to kiss her, when the yelling of Mrs. Weasley filled the garden: "They're leaving!" Everyone crowded to the front yard, where a rented Wizard Taxi was waiting. Ron's brothers had decorated it with traditional Muggle decorations: tin cans tied to strings from the bumper, whipped cream that read JUST MARRIED in huge letters on the back window, and countless streamers. There were hugs all around and everyone wished the newly weds a good time in Greece. Harry kissed Hermione and hugged Ron. "Have fun, mate," he said, patting his best friend on the back.   
  
"Yeah," Ron said, glancing at his sister, who was standing at Harry's side. "You, too."  
  
Hermione and Ron got into the back of the taxi, and as it drove away, they leaned out of the windows and waved goodbye. When it reached the end of the road, it disapeared with a loud BANG. The wedding party began to go back into the Burrow or Apparate home, until Ginny and Harry were the only ones standing on the road. That's when Harry finally got the courage to kiss Ginny.  
  
After it was over, Ginny stared down the empty road with a little smile on her face. "Maybe that can be us someday."  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, taking Ginny's hand. "Maybe."  
  
The End.  
  
****************  
  
Hope you all enjoyed "Nuptials"! I'm working on a semi-sequal (no title yet, but look for it under my profile soon), taking place 15 years from now. It will be about all their kids at Hogwarts, and I hope you all check it out. Big thank you's to everyone who read this. 


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